CPAP and Camping

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Dory trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon getting started at Lee's Ferry

Last year, my wife and I nabbed two seats on an 18-day dory trip rowing down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This would be our first whitewater adventure and the first time I would need to use my CPAP without the ability to plug it into a wall outlet.

For months, I searched online forums, product literature, and called sleep apnea doctors, trying to find information on using a CPAP for an extended period of time off the grid. I came up with one story about using a battery backup during electrical outages following hurricanes in Florida. Another told of a guy who lugged 40-pound deep cycle marine batteries into the wild, but these would only be good for a couple, maybe three nights of use. I needed to find a solution that would give me the best results without having to move 240 pounds of batteries on a rafting trip. Other stories involved hunters using batteries, often directly from their vehicles, but those were never more than a day or two.

Considering I had almost one year left before our departure date, I was certain I would find answers. I learned that Sine Wave Inverters drain batteries fast. Then I found a travel CPAP, but it would require buying a new CPAP unit and 12 of their proprietary batteries. This still wasn’t the solution I wanted; I was determined to use the CPAP I am used to sleeping with and enjoying. Someone suggested solar, but we would be deep in the canyon with an uncertainty of available sunshine, not to mention the size requirements of a large enough panel; this eliminated the idea of bringing solar.

Halfway between the booking and the approaching launch date, I began getting nervous that I might have to go into this river trip without my CPAP after all, knowing this would negatively affect my enjoyment of the trip as I’d likely be falling asleep during the day while we were barreling through rapids or I’d be napping while the others were off exploring side canyons.

Then, I found Chris at theCPAPshop.com in New Jersey, who told me of a battery configuration that might meet my needs. He had sold this type of battery to other CPAP users, one who dragged it to Africa and someone else who took one to the Himalayas, and while both were satisfied, Chris didn’t have info regarding how many days and hours of charge the batteries delivered to these guys or if they had the opportunity to recharge the units during their trip. He offered to work with me so the two of us could learn how well someone can travel off-grid for an extended period of time with their CPAP.

CPAP equipment including battery inside tent at camp site next to the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon

The first 9-pound battery measuring just 10”x7”x3” arrived within a few days. I ensured the unit was fully charged and immediately started testing for what results I could expect. From what I had read on sleep forums, using the humidifier was out of the question, as the heating element requires too much electricity.

I connected one end of the ResMed DC Adapter unit to the battery pack and the other end to my ResMed S8 Elite just before going to sleep. My prescription level is 9.0; I start at full pressure and do not use a ramp. I left the humidifier attached but turned it off, hoping it would pick up some humidity and make sleeping as comfortable as possible. I logged the hour and minute when I started the CPAP and when I shut it down upon waking. I would unplug the DC adapter from the battery in the morning, making sure there was no further drain on the unit during the day. The battery performed wonderfully over a period of six nights, providing 40 hours and 55 minutes of usage, averaging 6.8 hours of sleep per night.

After this first test, I took my data card to my sleep doctor, who read and shared the data stored in my CPAP; my median pressure was running a solid 9 with little variance. My AHI score was consistently below 4 – perfect.

The second test was performed the same as above, but this time I recorded precisely 42 hours of usage or 7 hours of CPAP therapy per night.

For the third test, I removed the humidifier (my doctor recommended I use RoEzit Dermal Care to moisturize my nasal passages and minimize the chance of nose bleeds), then I lowered my pressure to 8.6 (against my doctor’s recommendation) using a 30-minute ramp starting at a pressure of 5. I was curious if the ramp and lower pressure would extend battery life. While the data card results showed no variance in my AHI score suggesting I was sleeping perfectly, I noticed a difference in both falling asleep and how I felt at night. For my efforts, I lost 4 minutes of battery power during this third test. Changing the pressure and using the ramp was worth exploring, but as I gained nothing, I decided against trying even lower pressures and longer ramp periods. The battery held 41.93 hours of charge for this test.

A second battery arrived, giving me enough time prior to our trip to ensure the unit was comparable to the first. After six full nights of sleep, the battery was fully discharged, and I logged just over 40 hours of use of my CPAP. I recharged the unit for a second run; this time, I logged just under 40 hours.

Now armed with two of these power bricks and just a week before heading down the Colorado, I felt confident that with approximately 82 hours of battery power, I would be in a better position to enjoy the journey. During the test period, I was sleeping 6 hours 48 minutes per night on average; with 82 hours of battery charge, I would be looking at about 5 hours of sleep therapy with my CPAP per night and the possibility of one and three-quarter hours of sleep without the CPAP. The alternative of not going on the trip or doing it without any therapy at all was not an option; I was happy with the solution Chris helped me put together.

Pelican 1550 case fitted for carrying CPAP gear on extended camping trip through the Grand Canyon on the Colorado River

Before leaving I borrowed a waterproof Pelican 1550 case measuring approximately 20”x17”x8” weighing 11.5 pounds. I packed both 9-pound batteries, my CPAP, a dozen camera batteries, assorted batteries for headlamps, GPS, tent lantern, writing materials, and other miscellaneous items into the case. If I were to buy a Pelican, I would consider either the model 1520, measuring 18”x13”x7” for $120 or the Pelican 1510 Carry-on Case with pull handle and wheels measuring 22”x14”x9” for $134, although it is a bit heavier at 13.5 pounds. With my sleep gear safe, the entire package weighed 38 pounds, still 2 pounds lighter than one marine battery.

How did the equipment hold up? My case easily fit on the inflatable rafts that carried our gear. It did get wet dozens of times on the river, to the point of being submerged when the woman rowing the raft figured out that it could fit below deck, but through it all, the contents were always dry. The case, while on the raft, had to endure some brutal class 8-10 rapids; upon landing onshore, it wasn’t always handled gently, but through it all, I never once encountered a single problem or malfunction.

How did things work out, and how cumbersome was it to drag the battery, CPAP, hose, DC converter, and mask into the tent every night? The first night felt awkward, mostly because I was expecting different results from what I had at home or some kind of equipment failure, but everything went fine. My first night’s setup had the CPAP and battery right next to my head in our tent; the noise interfered with my sleep, making me restless, although this could have also been the adrenaline of what we were doing combined with the noise of Soap Creek rapid not much more than 100 yards away. The second night, I pushed the battery and CPAP as far away towards my feet as possible, seeing I had a six-foot length of hose, and slept much better.

Each night, I would set an alarm to go off 5 hours from when I put the mask on. Around 3:00 a.m., I would wake, take off the mask, toss it to my right, and reach down to unplug the DC connector from the battery. Within 20 seconds, I was back to sleep; well, as much as anyone with sleep apnea can be asleep when therapy isn’t an option.

The plan to sleep 5 hours with the CPAP ended up needing some flexibility as waking up from a bladder that demanded attention 4 hours 15 minutes into the night simply had me unplug the unit, figuring I could use those 45 minutes on another night when I might really need it. During the first eight nights of our trip, I logged 39.5 hours on the first battery.

CPAP equipment including battery pack inside of tent used on 18 day Colorado River trip in the Grand Canyon

On the ninth night of our river trip, I pulled out the second battery. The following five nights all saw exactly 5 hours of usage. The night after, I felt a little indulgent and allowed myself five and three-quarter hours of CPAP usage. The sixteenth night would be my last as 3 ½ hours into the night, I lost power, meaning the final night on the river would be without CPAP. I had calculated that there would be one night without therapy, and that was okay as it would be our last night on the river.

My total battery time expectation had been 82 hours; I ended up with just under 79 and am absolutely happy with the results. Never once on the trip was I drowsy or in need of a midday nap. We were typically up before everyone but the boatmen, packed and ready for coffee by the time the camp wake-up call went out. In the evenings we were always two of the last people to leave the fire as we enjoyed every bit of music and storytelling that goes on during one of these epic trips. And I slept great; not one camping neighbor or my wife complained about my snoring, maybe because they were all fast asleep as I hit the loud notes in the wee hours after my mask was taken off.

So, if you should want to find yourself on a 5-day backpacking trek and don’t mind the extra 9 pounds of the battery and your CPAP unit, there is no excuse for you not to hit the trail. One of these battery packs would easily offer you eight luxurious hours of sleep a night on a 5-day trip. If you are planning a longer trip where access to electricity is certain not to be had, rest assured that you can count on close to 40 hours of use from each battery. By the way, Chris also carries smaller, lighter units that don’t have as much run time but do offer a lighter load for those shorter trips!

I am so comfortable with this setup that a week after our return, we booked a 10-day backcountry tour on horseback into Yellowstone National Park for next year and are considering an 11-day trip down the Tatshenshini-Alsek rivers in Alaska in August 2012 – these kinds of adventures need lots of planning and are often once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, ones that I don’t have to let sleep apnea stop me from enjoying.

More information at http://www.thecpapshop.com/ or call Chris and his great staff at 866-414-9700

You Can’t Imagine

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Dories at Soap Creek on the Colorado river in the Grand Canyon - our first campsite.

Earlier this day, Caroline and I boarded the Sam McGee, a dory owned and rowed by Jeffe Aronson, who will be one of our guides on an 18-day dory adventure through the Grand Canyon National Park. Two-hundred twenty-five miles of river will be plied before we take out with our lives changed. As I post this brief update, I am working through trying to write about what this experience was and meant to me. The problem is that this has been slow going. I needed about five days to write about the first day and then two days to write about our second-day wake-up to running our first real rapid at 9:00 am. At this rate, I will need approximately 110 days before I complete the story.

Kings Canyon – Day 4

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Hume Lake at sunrise in Kings Canyon National Park, California

The original plan was for us to drive out of the national park late in the day yesterday. Instead, we opted to grab a night at Kings Canyon Lodge, which had a free room – on a holiday weekend! We’ll have a few more hours in the midst of all this spectacular beauty, although we’ll get home later. We arrived at Hume Lake just at sunrise when a breeze blew through and disturbed the water’s glassy surface. Ducks were beginning to stir, and a light fog was lifting off the lake– a perfect sunrise moment. But we had little time to linger.

General Sherman in Sequoia National Park, California

The General Sherman tree!

Small waterfall on the Congress Trail in Sequoia National Park, California

We do decide to take time to enjoy the sights at the General Sherman trail after all. Eight years ago was our last visit to this corner of Sequoia National Park, and being right here in the middle of the park, it would have been a shame to skip a return walk through the woods on our way south. Everything is different. Well, the trees are all the same, but the parking lot has moved, and the trail is altogether new. The next thing that strikes us is the evidence that yesterday was a major holiday that brought out the worst in people. Trash is everywhere. Paper, wrappers, bottle caps, pieces of plastic, and toilet paper. That’s right, TP. Who is it that thinks about bringing toilet paper out on the trail, squats next to a giant sequoia to take a pee, and then leaves her wad of paper right there at the foot of the tree? Good thing there is all this beauty around us competing for our attention.

Caroline Wise standing in the trunk of a giant Sequoia tree in Sequoia National Park, California

Something these photos have trouble conveying is the size of the trees. With Caroline standing in the trunk, it’s easier to get the idea of the enormous footprint these giants have imprinted on the hillside. Besides the General Sherman tree at the beginning of the trail, nothing looks familiar. Had there been a billion fewer mosquitos, maybe we could have walked slower, allowing us to remember a few familiar locations; instead, we hoofed it. The Congress and the House parts of the grove were the only other trees that stoked our memories.

The Senate in Sequoia National Park, California

The Senate stands tall over the rest of the grove, likely doing a much better job than the old wooden characters back in Washington, D.C.

On the loop trail near the General Sherman tree in Sequoia National Park, California

As we are leaving the trail, everyone else is joining it. Less than two hours to cover the two-and-a-half miles, a land speed record for the snail hikers. The truth of it was the motivation brought on by the angry hordes of mosquitos. Before leaving the park through the south exit, we have to endure a partial road closure that is regulated by a light, a long, painful red light that takes forever to turn green. Eventually, though we are quickly descending the mountain to rejoin urban America. Oh, the misery of forcing ourselves back into reality.

A motel sign for a motel that is long gone in Yucca, Arizona

Most of the drive home is through the desert. From out in the Mojave east to that infamous hotspot Needles, California, we cruise along at ten miles per hour over the posted speed limit. Here comes Ludlow and Dairy Queen, yummers; a chocolate malt sounds good right about now. Off the freeway, and OMG, there are ninety-five cars and three hundred other ice cream-hungry travelers here. We don’t even get below fifteen miles per hour as we turn around and are right back on the I-40. At the last possible second, I pull off in Yucca, Arizona, to photograph a town that has all but disappeared. A defunct neon sign is all that remains of the motel that is no longer to be found.

Kings Canyon – Day 3

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Caroline Wise receiving her Junior Range pledge from Ranger Frank Helling at Kings Canyon National Park in California

Fourth of July is America’s Independence Day, and Caroline finds one more reason to celebrate. Ranger Helling placed his ranger hat on Caroline’s head and swore her in as a Junior Ranger with a pledge to protect Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. He also showed us details on the ranger uniform we hadn’t paid attention to before. The National Park Ranger patch on the left shoulder is in the shape of an arrowhead; it features a bison, which represents wildlife but is also indicative of the first National Park, Yellowstone. The bison stands in front of a mountain which is Mount Rainier, and next to a tree, which is a giant Sequoia. On the Ranger’s hat is a black leather band with two metallic ornaments in the shape of green seed cones of the Sequoia, and even the Ranger’s belt is embossed with a Sequoia cone pattern. Caroline is now a Junior Ranger at Yellowstone, Arches, Canyonlands, Petrified Forest, Natural Bridges, Grand Canyon, and Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks! Only 51 National Parks left, and who knows how many national monuments, seashores, battlefields, historic parks, and cultural sites.

Trail side in Redwood Canyon at Kings Canyon National Park in California

With the formalities out of the way, it was time for recreation. Not far from the Grant Grove ranger station is the narrow dirt road into Redwood Canyon. We are taking the Sugarbowl trail. Early in Arizona’s summer, around mid-March leading into April, we will typically have already been experiencing days that are approaching the upper 80s. During these weeks, we might venture north to enjoy a great spring day in the mountains only to be reminded that it is still winter in other places. Here in Kings Canyon, we are reminded that while it is summer almost everywhere else, it is still springtime up here. Wildflowers are in abundance; we feel lucky to be witnessing this spectacular bloom and are all but certain that in two weeks, summer will have arrived, and the wildflowers will be but a distant memory until next year.

Standing in the burned-out center of a very live Sequoia tree in Kings Canyon National Park, California

We are in the Sugarbowl grove. This is another one of those moments where it would be easy to show you the obvious, that being the giant trees that were all around us, but you should see that with your own eyes. What I am offering is a much rarer sight. Just off the trail at the bottom of a tree is a hole, a hole singed by fire and not too small that it would keep big guys like myself from crawling through. To our amazement, we could both enter the tree. Once inside, there was ample room for both of us to stand up – at the same time. The center of the tree was burned out, but the hundreds of feet and tens of thousands of pounds of the tree above us are very much alive and well. How far up the black scar ascended was impossible to see.

On the Sugarbowl trail in Redwood Canyon - part of Kings Canyon National Park in California

The trail continues. On occasion, a hiker or two passes us, but it is quiet and peaceful out here. I hope the photo conveys to you just how perfect a day we were having. And while I will soon sound like a broken record, suppose I’m dating myself with that reference; we are moving as slowly as humanly possible so that we might not miss even one detail. Sure, we know we’re missing a million little things and probably more than a few big things, but augmented reality with geospatial overlays offering detailed information regarding geology, flora, and fauna, are not yet available for hikers in the backcountry, or maybe anywhere else either.

Fresh green growth of a tree in Kings Canyon National Park in California

The narrow ringing of fluorescent green at the ends of the older and darker green growth was an impressive showing of how far this tree was extending itself into the world. This was also our first occasion to see something like this, which makes one wonder if our powers of observation are normally asleep. Are these phenomena always around us demonstrating the magic of nature that we are simply not truly aware of? It leaves me pondering why as a mass of humanity, we concern ourselves with the machinations of talking heads, relegating the grand stuff to the eggheads.

Base of a Sequoia tree in the Sugarbowl grove in Kings Canyon National Park, California

Halfway. No photo will ever convey the feeling to be had being here. You may perceive the colors and shading, and you may glean size and random details, but these are all poor perceptions of a design by nature that only one’s own eyes, nose, and other senses can at once be intrigued with and baffled by. The immensity of this perfection is often lost in the cynicism of those who prefer the artificial. Had other men had their way, all of these trees would have been converted into fences distancing us from our neighbors and ourselves. When you look into the beauty of nature, you should be so lucky to witness your own complexity and great fortune at being counted amongst the teaming life, sharing a moment of mutual respect. Sadly, our reality is more akin to the idea that tree huggers are a weak shadow of humanity who would steal the bread from the hungry mouth of a child. Our balance tilts to the stupid; the nature of man has the roots of the ugliest weed.

Caroline Wise on the Sugarbowl loop trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

I cannot break out of the idea that in the second half of the loop, we are returning to an endpoint. What conditioning brought this poor thought to my mind? If only I could not see the end of the trail and this hike until the moments just before seeing the parking area. I feel part of the magic is stolen from me as I walk along in recognition that this is the last half. It is pessimism; my glass is now half empty. Is this an affliction of modernity or of aging where time has become our master? Lucky children never see their own end of innocence as time has not yet become their guide; they still see all of the opportunities ahead of them; time is boundless and full of promise. Alas, getting old rears its head, letting you know that an end is near, and these trail moments, happy moments, and pleasant moments that come to a close are little reminders that our own existence is limited. Maybe I should spend more time hiking into life than returning on its trail.

A butterfly sucking up nectar in a flower at Kings Canyon National Park, California

For a moment, I envy the butterfly. From flower to flower a neverending feast of nectar. But it too will see the end of the trail; in so many days or weeks, the flowers will shrivel and fall away. With nowhere left to nourish itself, it will then lay eggs to start the next cycle of life, and its wings will cease to flutter. Is self-awareness all that it is made out to be? To live instinctually served our ancestors, but a milestone in the development of our mind and the advancement of language gave our species the curse of recognizing our own frailties, shortcomings, fears and understanding that death is on the horizon. Maybe it is our ultimate fatalism that has us running amok on earth, trying to lay our next seed before all of the flowers are dead and gone.

In the forest of Redwood Canyon at Kings Canyon National Park, California

Deep in the forest, with trees towering into the heavens and plants surrounding me, I feel the ancient wisdom of the man or creature who might have looked around and knew their place. They were themselves but a tree, a leaf, a branch, the butterfly, one with and of the natural world, not its master. While standing here in awe, there is also the overwhelming sense of tragedy that these small corners of what remains of nature are forever being diminished and lost due to our need to control all facets of our existence. A real Independence Day would be for these trees, these ferns, and salamanders to be able to live without the ax, the bulldozer, and the smog threatening their environment.

A stream flowing under a fallen tree in Kings Canyon National Park, California

Meanwhile, Caroline was off exploring a creek, cutting her own path through the thicket. I hollered out but heard no response; my first thought was that nature in the form of a bear had struck; no, she would have screamed. On second thought, she fell into a hole. The third was that incredibly dumb TV-induced idea that someone jumped out of the bushes and attacked her. Now, on my way to panic, I holler out again, still no answer. Cursing won’t help me now. Once more, I holler, or maybe it was a scream, and not eighty feet away, I hear her asking me what I want. Just making sure that Mike Meyers hadn’t dragged you into the bowels of the earth to chop off your limbs before selling you into an international prostitution ring. Fears allayed, I followed my wife with both arms and legs still intact over to the stream for this beautiful view and some hugging, knowing she wasn’t bear food either.

Lush green foliage and purple flowers at the foot of giant Sequoia trees in Kings Canyon National Park, California

Now, I know we are slow, purposefully lingering at a crawl, but can we really be this slow? At other times, slow was typified by our mile-per-hour pace. Well, if this trail is six and a half miles and we have been out here nearly eight hours, we must surely have lost the trail back to the parking lot. Caroline is assuring me that I can stay calm, that we are right where we should be, and we are not far from the finish line. Earlier, we passed a family that was heading up the trail to the Sugarbowl grove from where we had come, and they insisted they were on their way back to the parking lot and that there wasn’t a fork leading to the parking lot in the direction we were hiking. We did go through an especially thick, overgrown part of the trail; maybe we missed the turnoff? I must be getting forest fever as now I start wishing I’d brought more food, water, and a flashlight for our night in the forest.

A bear crawling up a giant Sequoia tree looking for food in Kings Canyon National Park, California

What’s that? Did you hear that? Yes, I heard it too. There it is again; what does it mean? IT MEANS BEAR!!!!! No, this wasn’t a forest fever-induced hallucination; it was a real bear. And the sound? It was clawing into trees looking for food, maybe grubs, maybe bees, but hopefully not looking for fat guys about to make pee-pee-filled hiking boot appetizers. Where the hell did my wife get this sudden burst of calm? I’m ready to run if I could breathe, and she’s like, shhh, let’s just stand here and watch it. Are you serious? Maybe its mother is on the other side of the trail and is getting ready to gouge some eyeballs out of my puny, not-bear-proof head. She tries to reassure me that it’s obviously not interested in us and that everything’s cool. The only reason it’s not interested yet is it hasn’t picked up on the scent of fear I’m exuding. Slowly, my lungs refill with oxygen, and I step back to Ms. Braveheart and snap a few photos before I slither away with both eyes over my shoulder making sure we’re not being hunted. After an hour of being tracked by this monster bear, we safely returned to our car, but I’m sure life was in the balance more than Caroline would ever admit.

Kings Canyon – Day 2

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Hazy layers of mountains in the early morning at Kings Canyon National Park, California

It’s morning in the mountains with the sun straggling over the heights, slipping over one peak to be trapped behind another. Shadows still rule the early day up here. The traffic that will befoul the roads in a few hours is still at bay, as is the heat. A cool, moist air tries to convince us that we could be a bit chilled. But we come from the desert below and will enjoy our moment of freedom from oppressive weather. At home, even the early morning sun peaks over the horizon with a sizzle this time of year, up here, we are temporarily saved from its blistering attack.

Kings Canyon National Park, California

Addition: It’s January 2023, and in the process of creating an index of our travels, I recognized that over the years, some blog posts weren’t connecting to the uploaded photos and instead were using some kind of cached image. This has required me to reupload dozens of day’s worth of photos spread out over some years. In some cases, I’m seeing images I should have uploaded or at least, some I want to upload now. The images that are reuploaded are also being adjusted as in my view, I think I’m able to do a better job using Lightroom. There’s one other image I’m adding below that I’ll also mark as an addition. As for the subject matter, we were driving through a canyon on a narrow road hanging to the side of a cliff.

Grizzly falls in Kings Canyon National Park, California

A subtle yet magnificent waterfall – Grizzly Falls. The mist is being shot out of the foot of the falls; all around us, the ground, the trees, the leaves, and soon we, as well, are covered in moisture. Until then, we delight in standing near the cascade of wispy veils of water that spray over the boulders, wet our faces, and cover our glasses in droplets, obscuring our sight. Eventually, the cold of the early morning finds its way through our thin layer of toughness, shortening our stay. Anyway, we have a date with a ten-mile-long trail.

Mist Falls trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

So, we cut the thirty-mile drive from three hours yesterday down to an hour and a half this morning, but it still was too long to be off on our hike near sunrise. We reach the trailhead at 7:45; we might have to do better than a mile an hour this time – maybe. Luck would have it that the parking lot is still relatively empty, so not too many people should be on the trail yet; plus, some of these cars probably belong to the backpackers who have taken the longer hike up to Paradise Valley and points beyond. We are on the Mist Falls Trail, which becomes the Woods Creek Trail just beyond our destination.

Amongst the ferns in the forest on the Mist Falls Trails in Kings Canyon National Park, California

The first part of the trail is nearly level and casually cuts a path through the meadow and intermittent forest. In a moment, boulders dot the landscape, and the hike turns up a canyon. Grasses give way to ferns, and the trail becomes even lusher. Down at the foot of the canyon, we are once again in shadow, this time from the sun eating Mount Gardiner standing overhead at 12,907 feet. After more than an hour, no one else has passed us, but this is about to change.

Vibrant green summer growth on the forest floor in Kings Canyon National Park, California

The forest is old and constant yet, at the same time, new and dynamic. The trees may have towered above for hundreds of years, but this fresh green growth has come up with the disappearance of the last snow and the march forward of spring. We would easily be forced to our knees and crawl to catalog all that is to be seen here, but that would give short change to what is above our heads. And what of all that is before our noses? The day is too short for everything our eyes, ears, noses, and fingers can behold; life is too short to see all that it has put before us.

White water rushing by the Mist Falls Trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

For an hour now, we have been walking along the river. It’s not always visible, but we can hear it. When it does come into view, it doesn’t fail to amaze. Maybe we dam our rivers to allow us to forget what a wild river looks and sounds like. This way, we do not wish to see more racing, tumbling water; we accept that water is controlled, portioned, priced, and commodified. There is an inherent, maybe even primordial, draw to rushing water. When you look into the crashing waves, the deep emerald flow, and the white foamy tumult, there is an elevation of senses that tells you that the world and all that is around you is vibrant and alive. It demands your attention, your respect, and your sense of awe.

Cascading water next to the Mist Falls Trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

The trail steepens, and the river grows louder. Mosquitos politely remind us that we should put on gobs of insect repellent, which we do in great haste. We are gaining in elevation, and while the trail map claims that we will only gain 800 vertical feet, it feels like a lot more. If it weren’t for the flying mini-monsters emitting those high-frequency buzzing noises, we could pull up a chair and feel like we’ve seen it all, being content to call this the end of the trail. Moving forward keeps the blood-sucking tyrants away from the places the repellent missed, and who knows, maybe Mist Falls will be even more beautiful than what we are looking at on our way.

Kings Canyon National Park, California

Addition: With so many intimate shots showing the details of the place we were visiting, I thought it was needed here in January 2023 when I updated this post to add a better overview of where were at in Kings Canyon National Park.

A rattle snake on the Mist Falls Trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

Is that the sound of a rattlesnake? Well, look at that: right next to the trail, the first rattlesnake in the wild Caroline and I have seen. Over the rest of the day, we’ll see two more. For twenty minutes or so, we stood still, watching the snake map his territory. Or maybe it was just trying to figure a way out. From where we first saw this five-year-old specimen, it was at the end of the road unless it was going to try to pass us. It curled up behind the rock next to the trail in a defensive position until it recognized that we were not trying to corner it and finally, it started to relax and slithered back up the trail in front of us. The snake found a crevice and, within minutes, was above us in the rocks and soon gone.

A lush fairy garden on the Mist Falls Trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

To think that a few months ago, this trail was covered in snow. Maybe ice had formed along the river, or had it stopped flowing over the winter? Is it silent here under the trees in January? While wildflowers can’t literally scream and dance, they do come close with their beauty beckoning us to admire their perfect setting as we walk by. All of the pieces are laid out in such a way that the contrasts, gradations of color, and depths say you are about to see just what your imagination of what a perfect reality should look like, looks like. And there it is, next to the red bark of a tall tree, against the dense forest, in sun, speckled with blotches of shade, fern fronds in the background catching glimmers of light, fluttery insects bouncing from purple flower to flower and floaty ephemeral unknown things drifting in the air above this perfect scene, it is all so dreamy and all ours for as long as we choose to bask in its glow.

Caroline Wise standing in a pool next to a cascade above Mist Falls in Kings Canyon National Park, California

Mist Falls. We have arrived. While Mist Falls themselves were quite nice, it was the cascade just above them that really drew our attention. Riverside Caroline took off her boots and stepped into the “very” cold waters of what is part of the South Fork of the Kings River. This was also a great spot for her to dry her socks and for us to break out our lunch. Today’s gourmet mid-day meal was of whole wheat bread bedecked with peanut butter, raspberry peach jam, and sliced banana – a PBB&J. Drink was courtesy of our Camelbak and was of the lukewarm water variety. But then, who cares about food while the eyes are feasting?

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Mist Falls Trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

Ok, time to run down the mountain. Like that’s going to happen with Pokey and Sleepy Wise. Everything looks so different hiking in the opposite direction; we have all the reason in the world to inspect these details with all of the attention spent on the trip up. There was a photo I didn’t include of our trek up the trail; it was taken just before the photo of the rattlesnake, and a glimpse of it can be seen behind us in this photo. The view from up here is the kind of vista you hope to see after hiking through the forest and up mountains. It is obscured here by our big heads, and to see it in its full grandeur, one should have to make the journey to Kings Canyon National Park and get off the beaten path to witness it in person.

On the meadow of a loop return trail after leaving the Mist Falls Trail in Kings Canyon National Park, California

The trail back to the car took a detour over a bridge and through the forest on the opposite side of the river. We were almost turned back by our apprehension of crossing a small but fast-moving knee-deep stream. Lucky for us, a group of half a dozen hikers came by and marched right over those strategically placed tree limbs like they were a bridge built just for them. We mustered our courage and followed their path. Yay, we will be able to take this alternative route to finish our hike! This was only as good an idea in theory as the reality of the soreness in our feet counterbalanced that enthusiasm and had us thrilled when we finally saw the next bridge that would deliver us back over the river towards the trailhead.

Mosses growing on a dead burned out trunk of a Sequoia tree in Kings Canyon National Park, California

With that hike behind us and it still early in the day, we weren’t about to waste the light of day by putting our tired feet up; we drove right over to Converse Basin. The night before, Ranger Frank (aka John Muir) Helling told in his narrative of a burned-out sequoia tree that the real John Muir cut into with his ax more than a hundred years ago to count the growth rings. Those ax marks can still be seen and rings counted like they were exposed just yesterday. Funny thing to stand there thinking that John Muir would have seen pretty much the identical things I’m looking at. No, this picture is obviously not those ax marks; it is the moss that grows on the opposite side of this burned-out hunk of tree. As mentioned above, some things have to be seen by your own eyes.

The General Grant Sequoia tree, the second largest tree on earth at Kings Canyon National Park, California

The sun is low but not gone after dinner. We take the short drive to Grant Grove to see the namesake of this corner of Kings Canyon National Park. The General Grant Tree is the second largest tree on earth, and the nearby General Sherman is the largest. While reading about the trees, I was reminded that Caroline and I have visited the largest trees on earth here in Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Park, the tallest trees at the Redwoods National Park, and the oldest trees on earth, the bristlecone pine in the Great Basin National Park. Not ready to go to our cabin, we took in another ranger-led campfire talk, this one about the history of the sequoia groves, logging, and Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks.